The Awakening (Rewrite)
by TheSleepyNinja15
Summary: C.C.'s been living in the dark for two centuries. Well, if one can still call it 'living'. Now, one boy literally opens the doors of her coffin bringing the light back in her life after being alone for so long. Her past was filled with lies and tragedy, will it catch up to her and stop her from finally living in the present? A vampire story.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note: PLEASE READ VERY IMPORTANT**

hi, manta here again.

i'm sorry for such inconvenience but here is the rewritten version of "The Awakening" in third person's perspective. as i've mentioned in my author's note in the original entry, i was having a hard time writing this in first person so i decided to upload this version. i'm truly sorry for this chaos. anyway, below are the reasons i've enumerated in the original entry as to why i published this story.

* * *

you must be wondering, "why would she write a new multi-chapter story when she can barely finish her ongoing one?" trust me, i'm asking myself that question at least ten times a day but this situation is something different.

as i've mentioned before, i've been struggling with some kind of a down moment in my life, sort of a quarter life crisis (which i am starting to recover from at the moment) that totally affected my writing motivation and speed. and during this time, there's one question that never left my mind: "what do i do with my finished stories that have been rotting in my cabinet?" and i think, this is one of the reasons why i feel trapped and lost with where i am standing in my life right now. because these stories were what started my passion and dream in writing and knowing that they were just there, fading on papers until they are crunchy enough to tear on their own kills something inside me. yet, embarrassingly, i can't find enough motivation to encode and edit them.

so, i thought, what if i do them while doing something i am currently interested in? will that help me progress?

that's why i came up with this idea.

the following story is one that's been finished a long time ago with it's own original characters, settings and elements. in order to save it, it will be incorporated with code geass characters, etc.

so here are some of my "warnings" as you embark on this journey with me:

**1\. this story will be 'CHILDISH'**

\- i wrote this story when i was about 15 or 16 years old filled with childish imagination and morale. in fact, as i was reading the drafts a while ago, i couldn't help but cringe at some parts. but as much as i found some of it dumb, i will try my best to preserve the essence of the original story and original characters. this is not a code geass fanfiction, this is a story for another set of characters, my first original characters that are so dear to me first, and i want to honor them. i'll still edit here and there to lessen the cringy-ness.

**2\. ridiculous character descriptions and comparisons**

-since this have original characters, automatically they have their own appearances which are far different from code geass characters. there are also some parts where character A looks like character B which when replaced with cg characters, wouldn't make any sense. i'm trying my best to adjust every one's appearance and description, but i hope you'll bear with me. please don't be surprised when suddenly lelouch looks like v.v. but you're free to throw stones at me. :-)

**3\. characters will be OOC**

-i'll try to make them act in-character most of the time

**4\. eventhough this is already finished, the publication schedule will not be regular**

-i still have to retype and edit everything so the updates may take time in between.

**5\. story is divided between past and present**

-the chapters with the roman numerals are the past while the ones with hindu arabic numerals are the present

this decision is one of the hardest that i made because one, it feels like i'm taking away the identity of my original characters from them which had been with me for more than ten years; and two, i don't know if my commitment is enough to see this through.

but i'll try my best. this is my way of loving and pushing myself beyond boundaries. one way or another, this is part of my healing and moving forward and i hope that you'll accompany me in this journey. sorry for this long note. hope you'll enjoy this one. thank you for supporting my works.

stay hopeful!


	2. i

_**i**_

_Time was nothing but an illusion when you were left to dwell alone in the darkness for two hundred years. Coldness, hopelessness, and silence were the only company that'd been keeping her warm all through these years._

_It had been a long while since she was able to see, to converse with, something living, someone alive… to be with a human like you. Enclosed in this hollow box of endless darkness which had been her sanctuary, it was a painful longing to find someone whom she could tell her dreadful past. The past that became her curse. The past that was her curse. And now that you were here, willing to know her darkest secrets, it brought peaceful relief to her tortured soul._

_It happened during a frigid, biting autumn of 1807. She woke up infront of a castle-like mansion with no memories and name to label herself. Oddly, she knew how old she was – sixteen and naive. Her memories began with the chill of the wind that awakened her from a deep slumber which she couldn't remember succumbing into. The frightful sound of the oaks as their leaves rustled against the breeze was a raspy voice beckoning her to rise. She remembered them all, but she couldn't remember a single thing about herself. Opening her eyes, she was welcomed by a pair of gigantic doors each decorated with combined elements of swirls and roses, in which the word "Britannia" was engraved elegantly at the middle._

_Her feet were numb. Her limbs felt powerless yet despite struggling to stand on her feet, she didn't hesitate to knock hoping that this place could bring her the illusion of solace even just for the night. The door opened slowly, producing this creaking sound that was both a cry and a plea. A lady who seemed to be in her early 40's greeted her with a sweet and expecting smile on her face – as if she already knew that she was coming. Her beauty was an exquisite mix of sophistication and gentleness. Her cheekbones were high but her lips were in the softest tone of pink. She was crowned with long deep magenta hair that fell into gentle waves. The girl remembered how her fingers came alive from wanting to feel its softness, to run them in between the shiny strands. And the woman's eyes, oh her purple eyes, the stars would be ashamed on how hers sparkled and illuminated the night sky._

_In that moment, the girl knew that she was hers to command and keep. And in that moment, she never knew that she was committing the biggest mistake that would bring tragedy to her life._


	3. 1

**1**

THERE are some things that you know without being able to see them. Like knowing that your mother is approaching just by hearing the light tip-tap of her feet on the wooden floor. Like knowing that what would be served on your dinner table is your favorite food because its aroma lingers along the corners of your house. It is the sudden rush of adrenaline you get when you hear the first note of your favorite song. It is knowing cold without the knowing what cold looks like. And people usually get to have this sense of familiarity, the sense of family and immediate clarity towards a person or a thing because they had spent too much time being with it.

So it is beyond her limited knowledge how she knows that it is morning when _he_ came. She has been staying in her coffin for two centuries which is way too much longer than she was able _to_ _live_ in the world outside.

"I was right! I know you're here!" he says.

And there he is, a silhouette of a young man against the pale glow of the morning light. His ebony hair is as disheveled as it was during the last moments she saw him. In that instant, she's completely forgotten that it is too strange to see him alive and healthy when he should be cold and dead by now. That's what being alone would do to you, steal all your logic when the joy of company comes knocking on your door, or in her case, came barging in her coffin, especially when that someone is the one who's important to you.

"You came back!" she gasps. She inhales a lungful of stale air, and her breathing comes out ragged, her chest violently rising and falling, and it's wrong because she shouldn't be breathing, shouldn't need air this much because that's what her curse is all about, but she is breathing and it's the most beautiful thing in the world. "You didn't break your promise. V.V.!"

Happiness falls over her like curtain and she rushes to him, embraces him tightly and silently prays that this is not just one of her cruel dreams where she would wake up to a lie.

"We don't have time for this. We need to leave now." He pushes her away roughly, grabs her hand and begins making his way out of the dimly lit room they are in.

She knows this place. She knows all of its twists and turns, the secret passages that lead to hidden rooms, and the dips and highs of its ceiling, just as how she knows how deceiving its elegant beauty is. A bubble of manic laughter threatens to escape her mouth. What a cruel joke to be trapped in the place where all her miseries started.

They are almost running. V.V. is quick and smooth in his movements while she is a stumbling mess behind him. Legs uncoordinated. Thighs shaking. Soon, two gigantic doors come into view and her feet instantly stop, her hands falling limply on her sides. She stares at them as numbness crawls all over her body. These are the doors that introduced her to _her_. The doors that opened her life to false hopes and beautiful lies. And now she is going beyond them _for real_.

"Don't just stand there! We need to hurry!" V.V. breaks her trance and she turns to his impatient figure. Slowly, she lifts her feet, then all at once she is walking and running and a rush of cold but fresh air greets her and everything is so loud and bright and she is very overwhelmed she can feel herself fainting.

"Wait!" she calls out. The world is spinning around her and suddenly, everything is a blur. Then something inside of her uncoiled. She closes her eyes at the unexpected sensation. No. No, no, no. She can't do it again. Stop. Just stop.

She feels a warm presence beside her and when she opens her eyes, V.V. is examining her, his head tilted to the right exposing his pale neck. "You okay?"

Her eyes fall shut again, shaking off the tempting image of his neck. Hands on her knees. No, not now. _Not ever_. _Please. _

She feels him shift and sigh loudly. "I got it. You haven't fed for a while, and you're vulnerable now. So hop on, and no, you can't complain about this."

His back is on her, slightly bent forward inviting her to be carried. She wants to tell him that it is a foolish idea. That he is hurting her this way because she can't help herself from hurting him. But she sees an odd earnest look in his eyes and somehow she couldn't say no.

She bites her lower lip hard, surprised to feel warm liquid flow on her skin. Reluctantly, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and tries not to inhale his scent. He starts moving as soon as she is properly positioned, weaving through narrow alleys.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Sssh. You'll know when we get there."

To keep herself distracted, she concentrates on his head, watching his black hair bounce following the movement of his feet. V.V. is moving fast. She'd never seen him this active. During the little time they were together, he was stealthy, the silent whisper among the festive crowd of a party. He was the period on every sentence – a barely there drop of an ink, unnoticeable but always present in the end of a thought just like how he was always silently present wherever she went, watching, always watching.

A blast of wind engulfs them and there is no stopping the attack of his scent to her nose. She leans away, but it is helpless. "Can't we… Don't you have a carriage or a wagon to take us there?" Her voice is tight, she can't remember when she closed her eyes but the violent hunger within her is a powerful force that wants to escape.

Ignorant of her internal battle, he chuckles. "Carriage? Wagon?" He shakes his head, his hair brushing against her face. Soft, so soft.

A sudden burst of memory returns to her. Long wavy magenta hair cascading down like a waterfall – the softest thing that she'd ever felt. She remembers how badly she wanted to have a hair like _hers_ so she let hers grew long, washed it with milk everyday and applied oil each night. A shudder runs through her body as she tries to erase the memory. She's gone, gone, gone.

"Please. I'm going to… hurt you anytime now."

Finally, he stops and gently drops her on the ground. She opens her eyes and her weak knees struggle to support her weight but fortunately, she finds her footing. They are in a narrow alley, so narrow you need to go in a single line to be able to cross it. Two towering walls stand on each side like fortresses against barbarians allowing only minimal light to enter. Her eyesight is all bleary and spinning, she can't even make out the man standing infront of her. And he is talking about something. To her.

"Do you hear me?" he asks.

"Huh?"

He sighs. He starts unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. "_They_ said that this might happen." He looks over his shoulder checking his surroundings, then turns back to her. "Okay, do it quick."

And she is very much detached from the situation that she utters, "Huh?" again.

He points at her, "You're hungry," then points at his now exposed neck, "Feed."

"Oh," she says, too stunned at what he said. She shakes her head to escape the haziness she is in. "Pardon? No, no. I can't do it. I mustn't." She takes a step back then another, still shaking her head, ready to run away from him, to run away from her curse.

But she is suddenly yanked forward, his skin under her nose, his tempting scent all over her system. He holds her wrist too tightly, not giving rooms for arguments. His breath cold in her ear as he whispers in a low commanding voice, "Do. It. Quick."

And she does. But not quickly.

Because if you haven't fed for 200 years and you get a taste of the first drop, the first tease of blood and feel it caress your tongue, seduce your throat, no amount of restraint can control the crave you've been holding back for years.

This is the very act that subjected her to her long sleep, that took away all of her dreams and future, and she is very much disgusted at herself yet she couldn't do anything to stop it. She needs this. She wants this. His blood smoothly dances inside her mouth, and she thinks of strawberries and suddenly his blood tastes like strawberries and she can't stop.

She feels his grip on her wrist weakens, his head bobbing to the side, but good gracious, thankfully he still manages to weakly say, "Hey."

Snapping from her daze, she jumps back, hand already wiping the blood on her lips. And just like that, everything is so sharp. The sunlight, the chirping birds, the strange sounds coming from the end of the alley and his ragged breath.

For the first time in that morning, she is able to _truly _see him and all of a sudden he is _him_ but not. And she is lost, because he's not _him_, he's not V.V.

"Who are you?" she inquires with an unsteady voice.

He's still struggling to regain strength. His trembling hand on the wall, keeping him steady as he supports himself, his eyes shut tight.

"Where are you taking me? Why are you looking for me? Why did you let me do _this_?" all she wants now is to return to her coffin, to submit to the false comfort she is familiar with, because this man is not V.V. and it had been 200 years, and V.V. must be dead by now. The truth hits her hard causing her to step back but her shoe catches on a stone and she stumbles to the ground.

He snaps his eyes open, and they are violet. She isn't aware that eyes could be that clear violet, violet like royalty, violet like the farthest star. Slowly, he makes his way towards her then reaches out a hand. "I'm not going to hurt you. Listen, we need to get _home. _I'll tell you everything there," he sighs, "I didn't expect you to be such a weakling."

"I'm not –"

"Yes, you are. Now get up it's only a little walk now."

And perhaps, it's in the way that he looks so much like V.V. that she finds herself standing up, ignoring his outstretched hand, dusting off her heavy dress, and following him to the end of the alley.

As they step out of the long alley (finally), they are greeted by a huge house, a mansion really, but nothing like _the mansion_. It's white, plain and full of corners. There are no swirls, no softness, just edges and sharpness.

"We're here. You ready?"

"For what?"

He snorts.

She glances up at him then back to the mansion. Is she ready? She doesn't know. This will be the second time that she is subjected to this kind of situation where she tries to find safety and a place to belong to. She is just hoping that this time, she is making the right decision.


	4. ii

_**ii**_

"_Hello, how may I help you?" the woman asked as she examined the girl's appearance._

_The girl felt her words more than she heard them. Her voice was smooth and reassuring, capturing her trust immediately. Confused at the strange sensation, the girl stared up at her not knowing how to respond. "I, uhm…I don't know," she barely whispered, her throat feeling hoarse and dry._

_"You don't?" Those purple eyes softened quickly reminding her of lavenders. The woman peeked over her shoulder seemingly worried that someone might hear their conversation before returning her gaze towards the girl. "Well, you can come in for a while. The cold is harsh out here. Come, come, you poor girl."_

_Without hesitation, she followed her inside, the cold quickly replaced by warmth, and her weak heart almost leaped out of her chest with the grandeur that was the inside of the mansion. The ceiling was a lower sky, so high she wondered how men reached it to build it – if angels did exist and they were the builders of this structure. Large paintings of men and women hanged on the walls dressed in clothes of extravagance and wealth. The girl looked at each of them, marveling how their eyes held so many emotions, curious about the secrets they hide. The painter must be a master of his talent for producing such haunting art._

_She stopped on her tracks when her attention was caught by something ahead – amazement engulfing her. Two grand staircases that met at the top stood tall and proud. Polished woods shone like the clearest lake waters and as if proving such comparison, one could see the reflection of the whole room on them. The woman cleared her throat and she turned to her._

_"You need to get washed. I'll find you a dress to wear and prepare some food for you. You must be starving. Follow me, this way to the washroom."_

_The girl looked down and found her dress dirty and torn at the edges. The woman led her to an equally large and elegant washroom where a tub decorated with sculpted roses lay in the middle. After telling where the things she needed were, she left her alone. The tub was already filled with warm water, patiently waiting for someone to soak in it. The girl got in and let the water take away the coldness in and out of her – the hollowness she was feeling because of her lost memories._

_She tried to dig deep in her head, looking for a clue, a light that would lead her as to how she reached this point but she came out blank. It was as if a massive block of rock hindered her to go further, pushing her away when she tried to reach out. For the first time, she felt dizzy that night. She wanted to blame it on hunger, but she was not even hungry. She bowed her head and rested it in between her knees. The girl stared at the faint reflection of her face on the water, wide-eyed staring back at her. A face she should have known all her life, but now she couldn't even recognize._

_Who was she? Where did she come from? How did she get here? Questions flooded her mind. Questions about her parents, her home, if she had siblings or friends. Questions about the girl whom she never met, her dreams, desires and beliefs. An ache was starting to grow in her head – the rock crushing her thoughts, but one question continuously plagued her, leaving the girl gasping for air._

_What happened to her?_


	5. 2

**2**

WITH two centuries under her name spent in isolation, she already expected that the outside world she had known before underwent change within and beyond the human's imagination without her notice. What she didn't expect is how big and shocking the change is that she suddenly has the urge to cry and laugh because she doesn't know what to do with all of the changes around her - where to fit in all this progress. A change must be something slow and gentle, it must come with a warning to prepare yourself for the good and the bad. But that's not how it always happen. Sometimes, you go to sleep as a normal human one night, then wake up as a hideous monster in the morning. A book with an unexpected twist, a visitor without an invitation. All you can do is to either accept or run away from the truth.

But she cannot run away from this kind of change, where there are no more carriages that crowded the streets nor women dressed like her.

She jumps as a loud metallic sound resounded somewhere beyond her sight and all of sudden, the large gates before them open without men working on them. Her hands instantly find her companion's arm and grip it tightly.

"Magic," she whispers.

He shakes his head as he pries her fingers away. "No. Not magic. Technology," he says briefly as if it explains everything. He starts heading to the mansion, and she follows him, much curious now than afraid.

"Technology?" she asks.

He keeps his back to her as he answers. "Technology, applied science." He opens the white door that is almost unseen as it blends with the plain white wall surrounding it. Yet, it is what she sees inside that left her speechless and gaping at every corner, very much aware that her mouth is wide open. "Everyone's out for an errand, so it's just the two of us for now. Your room is already prepared, well, for a long time. Maybe, later we'll get you some change of clothes. Are you still hungry?"

Reluctantly, she peels her eyes off from examining the _unique _room, realizing she's still standing outside the door. She takes her first step inside and it's as if the air shifts - a brief feeling of light-headedness that is quickly replaced by warmth. It travels from her head to toe, enveloping her in a cloak of newness and beginnings. Turning her attention back to him, she realizes she doesn't know his name.

"What's your name?" she asks without answering his question.

He abruptly stops from fumbling through some strange objects near the wall, or more likely, he freezes for a while then moves again. "Well, clearly I'm not _your_ V.V. I go by 'Zero'."

" 'Zero'? Like the number?"

A hint of a smile appears on his lips and it completely changes his sober appearance. "Yeah, like the number." Satisfied, Zero finishes whatever he is doing then turns to her. "And you?"

"Oh, pardon my rudeness! My name is C.C." she renders a curtsy, her hands holding her gown. Upon lifting her head, she finds Zero looking strangely at her.

"C.C… C.C., are you still hungry?"

Yes. "No."

Those violet eyes darken yet he says nothing. But C.C. know he sees through her lie.

Upstairs, Zero shows C.C. her room which, according to him, has been prepared for a long time. When she was about to ask why, he then decided to leave after telling her to rest for a while which is ridiculous because she had been _resting_ for a very long while.

The room is unlike the house. A time manipulator must be hiding somewhere for this room, _her room_ is designed like how hers used to look like two centuries ago. The missing swirls in the entire house are here, placed elegantly on the bed posts. Floor-to-ceiling window draped with red and golden curtains occupies almost half of the wall. A wooden desk sits against the wall with a lamp on it. On the far side is a huge oak cabinet which stands intimidatingly beside a small bookshelf. And the bed! Oh, the bed is majestic! Sheets of elegant green fabric embroidered with golden roses cover it. Large pillows line against the headboard which bears a large engraved letter 'C' in the middle.

The sudden pour of the rain makes her run to the window, perhaps more excitedly than she should be, for she hasn't seen rain in a long time and C.C. misses how its army of raindrops would bring chill to her skin whenever she danced in it. It was one of her favorite things to do before _that_ happened. Dancing in the rain, the sky's sadness bringing her joy. V.V. said that it was rude to be happy because of someone's loneliness. She didn't disagree but told him that tears touch people's hearts.

But it isn't raining when she lifts the curtains. The sun is bright in the sky; the birds are flying from tree to tree. Still, there is the pouring sound, the soft tip-tap of water against ground. So she follows it, leading her to a closed door at the end of the hallway. She puts her right ear on the door and listens. Then the sound eventually stops, followed by light footsteps and all of a sudden, she is staring at Zero's wet figure, his clothes clinging to his skin, water dripping from his hair.

"What are you doing?" he inquires with a surprised tone coloring his voice.

"Forgive me! I thought it was raining so I peeked through the window, but it wasn't so I followed the sound and it brought me here," C.C. nervously explains.

He tilts his head to the side, his forehead furrowing, "Rain?" Then shaking his head, he realizes, "It must be the shower." Zero steps back inside the room, sliding a glass door which reveals a smaller room. Without entering it, he twists a knob connected to the wall and suddenly, water sprinkles from the round metal that is placed much higher than the other one.

"This is the shower. We take a bath here. There's the soap and the shampoo for hair. The bathrobe is over there… Maybe you can use a shower. I'll get you some clothes and bring it to your room."

Zero leaves after teaching her how to operate the man-made rain. She spends a very long time cleaning herself, and another long time staring at her_ reflection_ in the mirror. When she returns to her room, a red flowery dress lays on the bed. It doesn't even reach her knees, the sleeves are little leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable for wearing such a short and thin dress.

She finds Zero downstairs, standing infront of the window with a cloth draped on his neck deep in thought. He glances at her direction, a brief turn of his head, then returns to staring out the window.

"I told you to rest first… Or do you want to know why you are here?"

"Why am I here?"

He sighs. "Sit down, please."

She does, and when she's settled, he begins. "We've been looking for you for quite some time now. It is a mission that my ancestors passed to the next generation when they failed in finding you until it finally reaches me. They searched in every potential place where Sir V.V. must had hidden you, from a church, to a graveyard, even – "

"_Sir_ V.V.?" She cuts him. "You know him, after all?"

"Yes. He adopted my great-great-great grandfather some years after what happened. Based on the story my father told me, Sir V.V. lived alone for a while until he stumbled upon a ten year-old street kid who was trying to rob a bakery. He took him under his wing, fed him, taught him things that my grandfather needed to know, then later on, trained him to be strong and wise." Zero's amethyst eyes soften as he says the next words. "But Sir V.V. was a sad man. He always talked about a girl who he was not able to protect, how he failed to save her from _that_ fate. Then one day, he didn't wake up from his sleep."

Seconds pass by before he speaks again, letting V.V.'s death sink into her thoughts. Zero's gaze never leaves her face, as if he's anticipating something, perhaps, he's waiting for her to burst into tears and sob. But she won't, couldn't. Grieving for the death of a loved one that happened so many years ago only left her feeling numb, and all C.C. can hear is, "_But Sir V.V. was a sad man_", and she did that to him.

"And?" she says weakly.

"My grandfather found him, along with an unfinished letter on the bedside table. Here." Zero hands her a wooden box that was sitting on the center table. She opens it and inside lays an old brown and crispy paper, already unfolded, bearing the familiar strokes of V.V.'s handwriting:

_Arthur,_

_ You are the only person that I trust wholeheartedly. When you reach the right age and are able to fend for yourself, please find _her. _Take care of her. Help her find happiness. She is_

"My great-grandfather owed him his life so he committed himself in fulfilling Sir V.V.'s request. Without any lead where to find you, without your name. Just the evening stories to guide him, but they were of little use. So the mission was passed to his son, to his son's son, until…" He shrugs, "And now you're here."

"And now I'm here." C.C. looks back at the letter infront of her, marveling the only thing that V.V. left her. "Can I keep this?" she asks without taking her eyes off it.

"It _is_ yours."

"Thank you." She glances up and finds Zero watching her. "Thank you for finding me."

He nods, that pitch black hair is a strong contrast against his pale skin. "So… Do you think you're already up to – " But he is suddenly cut off by the sound of the door opening. They both turn around and watch as a group of five youths enter the room.

_"Everyone's out for an errand, so it's just the two of us for now."_

They all stop at the entrance, a stunned look on their exhausted faces as they move their eyes from her to Zero then back to her. A moment of deafening silence engulfs all of them, a silence full of anticipation and, is that excitement? She fidgets on her place, her fingers already crumpling the skirt of the dress she's wearing wishing it to be the long gown she was in before so she could bury herself and hide from their stare. Then slowly, like the rising sun, a broad smile emerges from the tallest boy's face before his cheerful voice breaks the silence, "You found her."


	6. iii

**_iii_**

_She emerged from the washroom thoroughly cleaned and clothed with the finest silk dress that was so soft and smooth gliding against her skin. Despite it being heavy and long, she basked on its beauty and sophistication for this might be the only time she would be wearing one. The beautiful woman was waiting for her at the hallway and her eyes quickly sparkled as soon as she saw her, though now that the girl could see them more clearly, it was a sparkle that lacked life. An empty light in the dark._

_"Well, look at you! Such a pretty face to look at!" the woman exclaimed as her hand smoothed down the girl's hair. She shied away from her touch, still uncomfortable and confused._

_The woman's arm fell on her side, a frown forming on her face. "Dinner's ready. You must be starving. Follow me."_

_And so the girl did, and moments later, she was sitting behind a long table, extravagantly filled with numerous foods all looked ravishing and delicious. Her mouth quickly watered at the unbelievable sight._

_The woman (oh how she forgot to ask her name!) sat at the head of the table while she was on her left with her back on the door. She waited for her to start at the food or to bestow a signal that it was fine to begin eating, but she didn't. She seemed to be waiting for someone._

_"What is your name?"_

_The girl looked up from the meat dish she was staring at and silently devouring in her mind, only to find the woman watching her._

_Her name. She didn't know her name. She didn't know who she was. But she didn't want this loss to be in full control of her life. So she told her the first name that came into her mind. "Cecilia."_

_And hearing it from her lips gave a sense of peace and comfort to her being. She repeated it in her mind a handful of times, testing it, familiarizing herself with the syllabication and pronunciation. Cecilia, Cecilia, Cecilia…_

_"Cecilia, it is lovely to meet you. My name is Cornelia li Britannia. How are you feeling now?"_

_"A little bit better than before. The bath was great. My gratitude to you, Madame Cornelia."_

_"It's my pleasure to help people in need. Anyway, have you remembered what happened to you?"_

_She shook her head. "No, I haven't."_

_"Well, perhaps you are tired. Your memories could return after a good night slumber." The woman gave her a reassuring smile which immediately froze when her eyes gazed beyond the girl._

_The girl looked over her shoulder and found a boy, who appeared to be the same age as her, standing along the doorway. Everything about him was dark, except for his pale skin. Black, dishevelled hair, dark clothes, and an even darker stare from his indigo eyes directed to Madame Cornelia._

_The latter greeted him warmly as her frozen smile turned into a cautious grin. "There you are! We're just having a small talk while waiting for you. Sit down, dinner's ready."_

_His gaze was fleeting but the girl sensed a deep feeling of being unwelcomed. He didn't want her here. Back rigid and stiff, his posture was that of a boy who's fighting an urge to do something unpleasant. She shivered._

_"This is my only son, V.V.," Madame Cornelia started. She placed her hand on top of his and the girl noticed how his fingers flinched from her touch but he didn't pull away. "V.V., this is Cecilia. She is staying here tonight and perhaps not just this evening if she still needs our help."_

_If she thought V.V. was tensed a while ago, it was nothing compared with how he froze just after Madame uttered her name. His gaze was penetrating that she found herself paralyzed in her place._

_"Cecilia?" The way he said the name was awful. It came out of his mouth like a poison, a garbage he aggressively wanted to get rid of. But in the mixture of malice and hatred also came regret and pity. The girl didn't like that sound._

_"Yes. That's me. A pleasure to meet you, V.V.," she answered, testing the peculiar name on her tongue._

_"Well, what a wonderful night, isn't it? Shall we begin eating?" Madame Cornelia gestured to the festivities laid before them ignorant of the inner turmoil her son was currently experiencing. And it baffled the girl how she was so in tuned with the boy's emotions. Coincidence? Or was there, in fact, a hidden connection?_

_Madame Cornelia attempted to continue the conversation, telling things about herself, and some about V.V. The girl learned that they were the only ones living in this vast mansion. No helpers and definitely no mention of V.V's father. Madame was a well-known dressmaker – making dresses for the upper-class women in the society. The dress that she made the girl wear was one piece of evidence of how good she was at the craft. She also had a deep fascination with flowers and promised to give her guest a tour in her own Flower Garden the next day._

_On the other hand, V.V. according to her, was a very intelligent young man. He liked reading books of histories and adventures, of myths and fables; and of philosophy. Whenever Madame Cornelia thought that he was missing, or had left the house, she would always find him deeply immersed in a book in the mansion's library._

_"You have your own library?" the girl asked, very much interested._

_The woman smiled and her eyes got a faraway look as if she was remembering something wistful. And when she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle. "Yes, I have. There are plenty of books in there, though I might warn you, most are very old. There is also a great view of the Flower Garden when you look outside the window. Oh, you'll definitely love it!"_

_Just the thought of reading with the luxury of a great view excited the girl. Maybe, the past her enjoyed reading, or being able to connect with nature. Perhaps both. Though, the girl didn't know how long she would be staying here, she hoped that she could go to the library even just once. "If you won't mind, can I go and read there some time?" she politely inquired._

_Madame enthusiastically answered, "Absolutely! You are very much welcome." At the same time V.V. said, "No."_

_They both looked at him. The girl was hoping that she heard him wrong but he shook his head. "No, you can't." Then he turned to his mother. "Why are you doing this? Letting a stranger in our house. Telling her things that you just tell your friends. What if she's a thief? You know nothing about her. What if – "_

_"V.V.! Stop your insolence! Apologize to Cecilia now," Madame was so angry her rage was palpable in the air._

_But her son vehemently shook his head. Again. "I have nothing to apologize for."_

_"You have EVERYTHING to apologize for."_

_A tensed silence passed between them. Their eyes never leaving each other. And the girl realized, even though she could not remember her own family that it should not be like this one. You do not look at your mother with so much hatred and animosity. And a mother does not look at her son warily and regretfully as if she was afraid that he might say something not right, as if she had already failed him._

_"V.V.," she threatened._

_They waited but they heard no apology. V.V. simply stood up and left the room without uttering another word._

_A deep sigh escaped from Madame's lips. "I am deeply sorry for his terrible behavior. He is not always like that. V.V. is a good boy."_

_But her eyes were telling the girl that he was always like that – angry and hateful. But not to everyone, not even to her. Her eyes were telling the girl that his anger was not directed to her. It was all to his mother._


	7. 3

**3**

THE atmosphere is celebratory. They all give Zero a pat on the back, a squeeze on the shoulder, and even a light hit on the head. C.C. is worried that they may hurt him and he will emerge with a broken shoulder.

"Hello, I'm Anya. And you are?" Without noticing her leave the group, the pink-haired girl is suddenly standing infront of her with an extended hand. Her scent is subtle.

C.C. stares at her hand, then back at her waiting yet stoic face. She has that face of a porcelain doll with the way she stares almost blankly at people but oh so obviously interested at them. Anya stands with the top of her head barely reaching C.C.'s chin yet the mysterious aura she exudes can easily overpower the air. Ignoring her hand, C.C. introduces herself the same way she did to Zero. "My name is C.C."

"You just curtsied," Anya flatly says.

She nods.

"You just _curtsied_ at me."

"Yes… I did?" C.C answers getting confused. Anya's face is blank, unreadable. Her lack of expression is hard to comprehend that C.C. worries that she just offended her. But, rendering a curtsy is a sign of respect, isn't it?

"Hey, Zero," Anya calls over her shoulder. The rest of them go to their place and it is quite noticeable how they tower over her. She is a small girl, but with them, she's like a hill among the mountains.

"What is it?" Zero asks. He looks at C.C. warily and she returns his gaze with a puzzled expression.

Anya points at her. "C.C. here curtsied at me. Can you believe it? I mean, who curtsies these days?"

"Actually, considering her situation, the period she actually lived in and the long time interval between then and now without the exposure to the change in the society as one era eclipses the other, it is an acceptable and reasonable fact that she will curtsy to you since that was how she was raised. That's the tradition during her time," the brown-haired boy says. "Anyway, my name is Rolo. And people don't curtsy anymore during introductions. We shake hands." He extends his right hand to C.C. just like what Anya did and offers C.C. a kind smile. This time, she accepts it. "It is more common nowadays. But not too long. That will be awkward," he says as he releases his grip then adjusts his eyeglasses higher.

"Oh, I see. Thank you for letting me know, Rolo." Zero's strange expression earlier is now understandable.

"Gino Weinberg, the oldest in the group," says the tallest one. C.C. smiles and shakes his hand proudly. "Though, I guess not anymore. How old are you?"

"Well, it depends on which age you are asking. But I was 18 when I was put to sleep," she retorts.

A light chuckle enters the conversation. The blue-haired boy puts a hand on Gino's shoulder and gives it a playful squeeze. "It looks like you're still the grandpa of the group, Mr. Weinberg," he teases making Gino groan and smack his hand away.

"I'm Rivalz Cardemonde. Nice to meet you, milady." He removes an invisible hat from his head and bows before her. A little laugh escapes C.C.'s mouth, amused by Rivalz easy-going attitude. Among the group, Rivalz seems to be the most relaxed. He wears a perpetual smile on his face and his eyes are never deprived of mirth. "Well, gramps, I say this calls for a celebration."

"No, no celebration. At least not yet. She still needs clothes and other personal stuffs. I was supposed to bring her to the mall before you arrived," Zero disagrees.

"Oh, c'mon man. You never know how to have fun! You can do that tomorrow. And if it will do you any favor, Anya will take her. Right, Anya?"

Anya sighs deeply. "What else can I do? You just volunteered me."

"See? Problem solved!" Rivalz is so excited he almost looks like a child.

Zero slowly nods in resignation. "Fine. But there are still a lot of things lined-up for her to do. Like telling -, " he trails off upon noticing that nobody is listening to him anymore. C.C. gives him a sympathetic smile which he returns with a shrug, as if this is a regular happening in their household.

The rest of the group start discussing the details of the celebration, uttering things C.C. is not familiar with like, "pizza", "phone", and "beer".

As she watches them, she can't help but think of that night of introductions at Madame Cornelia's house which ended so differently from this. It was tainted with hatred and animosity, a memory that still haunted her to this day. But this, the voices that simultaneously talk over each other – planning and arguing in a friendly manner, this is how she visualized an introduction would be like. This is a memory she likes to remember.

She sits on the couch and looks at the open box resting on the table. And silently, she thanks V.V. for rewriting this moment for her.

* * *

"SO let me get this straight. You were really shot by Sir V.V. Like, he's really the one who'd shot you. Not some anonymous hunter?" Rivalz asks with pure disbelief and confusion. The pizza in his hand, which C.C. finds truly delicious – the most delicious food on earth, actually – is hanging dangerously between his fingers but the boy doesn't seem to notice. C.C. is miserable at the sight.

She nods. "That is accurate. But he needed to do that."

"Wow. I can't imagine how hard it had been… And the gun that he used is now in Zero's possession, right Zero?"

They all turn to him. They are in the middle of celebration which is composed of eating the food "pizza" that is very abundant in the room (and very delicious as she had mentioned before, but it definitely deserves another mentioning), and drinking the liquor called "beer", though she almost vomited after just one glass so she settled with the orange juice that Anya gave her.

C.C. has told them her whole story – from the day she woke up infront of Madame's house without any memory but her age, up until to the time she did that horrible, horrible act that put her to her temporary end. And she is at awe with the way they listened attentively without showing any prejudice. They did not look at her as if she's a monster who did the unforgivable, instead they tried to understand what truly happened during those years. They tried to understand her.

She waits for Zero's answer. It will not be strange to have the gun passed down to him after the mission reached his generation. But still, just the thought of catching a glimpse of that silver object _again _brings chills to her bones.

He takes time in answering, finishing a slice of pizza and having a couple of drinks of his beer. After having observed them from afar, C.C. concluded a while ago that he is the quietest and most serious member of the group making her think that those chuckles she had heard from him were just a product of her imagination. While the others were busy asking her questions, he was just quietly listening and observing his friends with those intent violet eyes. His gaze is unwavering, never looking away during a couple of times that their eyes met until she's the one to avert hers.

Putting the bottle down, he addresses C.C. directly, "Yes. The Diamond Shotgun is in my possession." And his statement is both a warning and a promise of what can happen again if she steps the wrong foot on the ground – that the next shot will be fired without any hesitation.

"Can I … Can I see it?" Her voice trembles.

"No."

"Pardon?"

"No, you can't see it. Because by the time you lay your eyes on the gun again, it will be followed by a shot. Now, you don't want to be at the receiving end, do you?"

"I don't."

"Good." He finishes his drink then stands up. "I'll call it a night. Anya, don't forget to accompany C.C. tomorrow at the mall, okay? I'm out of here."

They listen to his footsteps as they slowly fade into silence. Breaking the tension that he left, Gino clears his throat. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Zero and his mood swings," he utters as he sweeps his hand to the direction of Zero's vacant seat. He turns to me, "Don't be surprise if one moment he's smiling and the next he's frowning. Zero is hot and cold, but he is a good person. You might think he doesn't care, but he does."

"He just became grumpier after what happened to Nunnally," Rivalz adds.

"Rivalz! You and your mouth. If Zero hears you, you're dead," Rolo admonishes while shaking his head.

Rivalz slaps his leg loudly. "What? If C.C.'s going to stay here with us, she needs to know this. She can't go tiptoeing around his moods every day. Trust me, that's more difficult than my Physics exam and I even read the whole textbook the night before!"

"We all know that you slept soundly that night and yes, she needs to know, but let Zero himself tell her, moron," Anya flatly chastises.

Rivalz huffs, his blue hair moving with the air. "Fine."

"Anyway," Rolo interrupts while adjusting his glasses. C.C. already lost count of how many times he had adjusted them higher on his nose tonight. "Speaking of C.C. staying here, we should test her soon to know how far off she is. Maybe we could start tomorrow after they get back from shopping."

"Right. We could start with her physical abilities first. Determine the things that she cannot do or be exposed to anymore. We have to prepare her before she is formally introduced," Gino agrees.

"Forgive my intrusion, but I'm confused with what you are talking about. What do you mean by 'testing me'? Is it going to be painful?"

They all look at her as if they just remember that she's still here. Rolo answers, "Well, we're talking about finding out how 'vamped' you are. You will undergo some tests from sun exposure to mind-reading test. It can be painful, it can be not. The level of pain depends on how strong the vampire blood in your veins is."

"Oh." And suddenly, an important question hits her. "Is it possible that my memories will come back? Do you have a cure for my memory loss?" A bubble of hope starts growing in her chest – clear and fragile. Because it had been two centuries since then, this era should have found a medicine that could bring back lost memories.

But with the way their eyes avoided hers, and the sight of Rivalz scratching his head, she feels the truth first before hearing it. "There is none, correct? None." She tries to fight back the hard lump forming in her throat. Two hundred years have already gone and still no cure. She wonders if she would ever remember her past, if she would ever know her true self, and if her present persona is a whole new person from who she was.

"None _yet_. But researches have been ongoing and theories are made in trying to explain what happened to you. One is that the potion given to you was the prototype of all the "Amnesia" potion. It was untested, the portion of each element that was mixed was either too much or not enough in achieving the right mixture," Gino explains.

"You became the poor, innocent lab rat." Anya is already closing the empty boxes of pizza. Her movements are sure and calculated, as if the chore is more of a method than a simple act.

"Prototype? Lab rat?"

This time, Rivalz lets out an exasperated sigh, his palm on his forehead as he shakes his head. "But before anything else, C.C. needs some 20th Century Language and Technology 101 lecture."


	8. iv

_iv_

"_HERE, drink this. It will help you become stronger and healthier."_

_ Madame handed her a glass containing a bloody red liquid that flowed as smooth as wine. It was translucent, offering just a teasing glimpse of what was on the other side of the glass. _

_ With all of the host's generosity, Cecilia had been staying at the mansion for a while now, a couple of weeks to be precise, that she established a routine of going to bed in a specific time – when the moon was at its peak and the breeze was a slight cold whisper against her skin. Madame Cornelia had spared her a room which was as well-designed as the entirety of the mansion. The bed was a magical thing in the middle of the room with sheets of the softest cloths and pillows like clouds that fell from the sky. A huge window overlooked her Flower Garden and the hills beyond._

_ "What is this?" she asked while watching the red liquid danced and glided against the glass._

_ Madame waved her right hand in a dismissive manner. "I made it myself after studying a collection of medical writings. I gathered some medicinal plants in the garden and boiled them. That drink should have the same nutrition of milk, maybe even more nutritious if drank consistently. And you just need to drink it twice a month." Then, all of a sudden, her eyes took a different kind of shine, they went wider and a shade darker than the natural magenta. "Now, drink if you may. Drink, my dear Cecilia."_

_ And she did._

_V.V. was in everywhere she went. _

_ In the balcony reading a book when Cecilia was in the garden watering the plants; in the kitchen with a fruit in hand whenever she would eat bread; playing the piano when she found herself lost inside the music room; or just silently leaning against the wall while she admired with great awe the paintings hanging on it._

_ But he never talked to her. He remained a quiet presence of flesh and blood and it was unsettling. Cecilia found herself flying out of a room that he was already occupying many times, afraid that her company was unwelcomed._

_ The night that he first uttered a word to her, she was in great and unbearable pain. It was one midnight during her second month of staying in the mansion and Madame was out in one of her occasional trips. Cecilia woke up gasping for air and wrenching on the bed. Her stomach felt like being stomped by a steel-toed boot over and over again and the agonizing pain was quickly spreading inside her body, to her liver, her lungs and to her heart until her vision became blurry and hazy. Heat crawled over her skin, an invisible fire burning her body. Her cheeks were wet as she shut her eyes tightly, and she remembered praying that if it was her time, let her die in peace. Let her die quickly._

_ She must had been shouting, producing loud noises for the next thing she knew, V.V. was hovering above her with a worried and frightened look on his face. His lips were moving but Cecillia could not hear his words. And she thought, what a shame it was to finally have him talk to her yet his voice was drowned out by the pain. The feeling of being underwater was taking over her – everything was muffled, everything was fading. Suddenly, a biting chill replaced the heat and she could feel her body begin to slacken. And she was falling, and falling, and falling, and fading into the dark._

_ Cecilia was awakened by the sound of a low sorrowful voice asking for forgiveness. A voice so heavy that she could physically feel the burden of the owner against her chest – regretful, remorseful and so, so sad._

_ "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. Please be alright. Please wake up. Please …"_

_ Opening her eyes with slight difficulty, she found V.V. sitting on a chair next to her bed, hunched forward with his elbows perched on his knees. His head rested on his clasped hands as if praying while his back shook uncontrollably._

_ "V.V.," she breathed more than she said._

_ His head immediately whipped to her direction and his eyes were wild with disbelief just like his dishevelled hair. "Cecilia? Cecilia!"_

_ Then the most impossible thing happened – he enclosed her in his arms embracing her tightly, so tight she couldn't get air into her lungs yet the embrace felt so familiar and comforting and she thought, perhaps she was already dead for this could not be happening in real life._

_ "You're alive, you're alive. Thank you, thank you." He released her then held her face between his hands. "How are you feeling? Are you alright? Do you need something?"_

_ Cecilia shook her head and the mere action sent her to another dizzy spell. "No. I'm fine. I'm just a bit disoriented. Perhaps, I could lie down again."_

_ "Of course. Lie down slowly." Once she was settled he asked again, "Do you remember what happened?"_

_ "Yes, I do. I was just sleeping then, suddenly, I felt hot then cold. It's as if something powerful was hitting me, stomping my stomach. It was so painful. My whole body was in torture, I wished I'd die just to end it."_

_ His violet eyes quickly hardened at her words. "Don't say that. Never utter those words again… Do you have any idea what could be the cause of the pain? What did you last eat before you went to sleep?"_

_ "Just the dinner that was served. The red milk is not scheduled until next week," she answered._

_ "Red milk?" he asked, looking alarmed._

_ She held up two fingers. "I drink it twice a month. Madame made it herself. She said it was a replacement for milk since it was more nutritious and that it could make me stronger and healthier."_

_ "How does it taste?"_

_ "Well, there was a hint of bitterness, but other than that it almost tasted like an ordinary tea."_

_ He muttered something under his breath that Cecilia didn't catch. "How long have you been drinking it? Do you feel any different?"_

_ "No, I don't. I've just drunk it at least three times."_

_ He let out a relieved sigh "Good. Listen, Cecilia, listen to me carefully, do not drink anymore of it. Never ever. Promise me?" There was an indescribable pleading tone in his voice that she couldn't comprehend enough to make her almost agree with him. Almost._

_ "Why would I promise you anything? You do not want me here," she countered._

_ "Yes, I do not want you here!" he shouted. And he was shaking and breaking and gasping and just like that, the silent V.V. was gone and was replaced by a total stranger. He grabbed her shoulders gently despite all the tension that was radiating off him. Cecilia found herself staring into the dark holes of his eyes, and all she wanted to do was to get lost in them, to be swallowed by darkness again. He continued, now in a low and threatening voice. "I do not want you here and if I ever have the power to make you leave, I will. I'll never think twice of getting rid of you."_

_ "Why? Why do you hate me?"_

_ It was as if those words woke him up from a trance. His body lost all of its strained energy and his head fell on her left shoulder. "I cannot… I can never hate you. I'm begging you to _remember_ that."_

_ "You're confusing me, V.V. Did you know me before? Why are you talking like that? What do you – "_

_ "You need to rest," he straightened and looked at her with concern. "Will it be alright for me to stay here? I'm just right here, Cecilia. _Never forget_."_

_ "I don't know. I don't understand anything. But..." Her eyes were already drooping, her body relaxing that she failed to finish her sentence. What she was trying to say, she didn't know, too. What she knew was V.V. knew something about her and he's hiding it from her. But why?_

_It was V.V.'s smile that she saw last before going back to sleep._


	9. 4

**4**

"HOW do they fit inside this thin object? Where do these people get in and will they ever come out?"

"C.C., that is a LED Television. The people are not really inside it but those are moving images transmitted through a signal from a source network that produces the videos. It is called 'TV' for short."

C.C. studies with a huge amount of fascination the 'TV' despite not understanding half of what Rivalz has said. Anya and her had just returned from 'shopping' and they are able to bring home more strangely styled clothes and personal things that she will need as she stays with them.

The 'shopping' per se, was a whole different experience to C.C. - from riding a 'car', using the 'escalators' and 'elevators', going in to highly advanced shops with 'cash registers' that she is certain would have been truly useful during her time, to eating 'burgers' and drinking 'sodas'. To say the least, she is astounded by the trip. But she enjoyed it, particularly Anya's presence whose silence she began to associate with comfort.

When they arrived, Rivalz, Rolo and Gino are lounging in the living room watching TV. Apparently, Zero is out meeting an old friend.

She sweeps away a stray velvet green hair strand that plastered itself on her right cheek. Her once long pastel green mane that rivaled that of fresh grass is turned into a dark, solemn green curtain taking away its liveliness. Her fringe remains. Though now, she wears her hair (which was also turned into soft waves) into two low pigtails secured by white ribbons. Such style she acquired while waiting for Anya to come out of the restroom earlier in the 'mall'. A poster of a group of young 'celebrities' caught her attention and with the thought of blending thoroughly with the modern times, she decided to imitate the hairstyle of one of the girls.

However, she gathered varied reactions from the boys when they saw her.

Rolo: Oh. My. God. What have you done, Anya? If Zero sees her...

Gino: Even though the colors are different, the whole vibe is very much similar. You definitely resemble...

Rivalz: Don't worry and ignore their stupid comments, you look good like no-homework kind of day good.

Baffled by their reactions, C.C. asked them who they are referring to and what does Zero have to do with it, but they just shook their heads and talked to Anya who stubbornly said that she wouldn't let them make her remove C.C.'s pigtails and straighten her hair unless it's a life-or-death situation.

Now, their eyes never leave C.C.'s face as if they are searching for something, for someone that is long lost. And maybe they are. Their stares remind her of how V.V. looked at her. He was staring at her, but he was seeing someone else entirely – someone from the past who will never come back.

"Okay, it's time to start the tests. We can do the 'Sun Exposure' test first while the sun is still up and bright," announces Gino as he emerges from the basement where he retrieved the materials needed.

"Pardon, but what exactly do I need to do?" C.C. asks while eyeing the blue blanket he is carrying.

"It's just like sun bathing. You'll lie under the sun and we'll gauge how long your skin could tolerate the light," he turns to Rolo, "Can you take note of the results?"

The boy nods. "Sure. And maybe we can test what other things she can do while waiting, like mind reading and telekinesis to maximize our time."

It turns out that C.C. can stay under the sun for three hours straight and that she doesn't possess any mind reading nor telekinesis ability. Next, they tried if she could control any of the elements, but the results are negative. Then, they proceeded to test her strength. Rivalz suggested that maybe she has 'Superman' strength afterall. C.C. asked him who Superman was, he just said, "Well, we need to schedule a movie night soon."

They headed to the garage where they asked her to push the 'car' but like the previous tests, she failed. She doesn't know what all of these inabilities of hers mean, but instead of feeling down and hopeless, somehow she feels relieved - relieved that perhaps, there's still a chance to go back to humanity. That the vampire in her can still be destroyed and forgotten.

After the tests, they ended up around the dining table eating dinner that Gino cooked. Eventhough the group did a lot of things today, everyone is still energetic which C.C. finds refreshing.

"Maybe, the reason that your abilities have not manifested yet is because your intake of the 'Turning' potion was not frequent," Gino theorizes as he slices a piece of beef on his plate. "You mentioned that Sir V.V. made you stop drinking it, right?"

She nods. "For a while. During the time that Madame was away. If I remember it correctly, I didn't drink it for three months. But she found out when she returned. I don't know how, but she knew that I was not drinking the potion."

Rivalz who is devouring his food enthusiastically asks, "What did she do about it?"

C.C. recalls how Madame Cornelia had looked at her - disappointed and sad at the same time. She did not get mad but she thoroughly explained to her the consequences that might happen if she did not drink it regularly – much more painful nights because her body would not be able to adjust accurately and sickness that could lead to death.

V.V. was there, leaning against the farthest wall from Madame, and she had the feeling that she was telling all those things to him more than to her.

C.C. drinks her juice before answering Rivalz's question, "She did not get furious, but she told me what would happen if I did not take it according to schedule. I was afraid so I obeyed her. But whenever she was not around, V.V. would stay in my room and convince me not to drink it or sometimes, not to drink all."

V.V. was afraid, too, though he tried to conceal his fears. But C.C. saw it in the way his eyes would stare at the glass sitting on the desk next to her bed, she knew that a part of him believed what Madame had said. There were times when he would just let her finish it all, and then he would silently put her to bed with those sad eyes lingering on her face.

"Or maybe, she just hasn't drunk enough blood," Anya adds. "Tell me, how many times did you actually drink blood?"

And all of a sudden, C.C. is back two hundred years before, with_ her_ body limped in her arms and V.V. screaming her name. "Twice," she whispers. "Once before V.V. shot me, and the second one – " she stops at once upon realizing that they do not know what she did to Zero, that she is a monster after all with or without inhuman abilities. They are all staring at her, waiting for her to continue, and she is too focused on what to say next that they do not hear any footstep approaching the dining room, or even the door closing first. What they hear is a loud 'tug!' sound as a bag falls on the floor and stumbling footsteps. And when they all turn towards the doorway, they find him - pale and frozen with wide shocked eyes directed at C.C. There is Zero, standing at the doorway looking like he had just seen a ghost.

"Damn," Rivalz mutters under his breath.

An unbearable silence follows with everyone looking at each other but Zero and C.C. Anya holds C.C.'s hand as a sign of support. Zero, on the other hand, is stuck on his place as if time halts leaving the both of them in a limbo of no escape.

Through the silence, his whisper is an anomaly of sound and noise. "Nunnally?" His voice is barely there, the desperate hope in an impossible wish.

C.C. doesn't know how to respond. She darts her eyes towards Gino, then to Rolo, Rivalz, to Anya, searching for help, clarity, but wariness and concern are freezing them in their places, cursing them with muteness.

"Uhmm…"

All of sudden, Zero is infront of C.C., cupping her face between his shaky hands. His violet eyes are of the color of the clearest amethyst, in disbelief and distress. "Nunnally," he breathes.

The loss in his eyes makes her want to say, "Yes. I'm Nunnally. It's alright. Do not be sad." But since the time she woke up infront of Madame Cornelia's house, C.C. has always been a ghost of someone else. Everyone, even V.V., did not see her as who she is because all of them were searching for the girl that she was.

Gathering courage, C.C. closes her eyes before answering him. "C.C.," she weakly utters. Then opening her eyes, she tries again with conviction. "My name's C.C. not Nunnally."

And that word is like a magic spell to him. Or maybe a curse. His hands quickly fall away from her face and find their way to his pockets. Coldness takes over his eyes. He takes a step back, then another, until a good distance is separating them.

"I'm sorry. You look like my… You look like someone I knew," he says detachly.

After all this commotion from the group most particularly from Zero, curiosity finally wins over C.C. "Who is Nunnally?" she inquires. Soft mutterings fly around, then a cough that is clearly from Rivalz.

Zero glances at them briefly then turns back to her. "Anya, I think she needs to redo her hair," he says without taking his eyes off C.C.

Anya stands up and crosses her arms infront of her chest. This time, she looks taller than any of the boys in the living room as she glares at Zero. "Not gonna happen. And no, you can't convince me. These three," she gestures to Rolo and the rest, "have tried but they failed, and obviously you're only one, so the chance of me agreeing with you is _zero_ out of a hundred." She turns to me with commanding eyes, "Let's go, C.C. It's time for sleep."

When C.C. doesn't respond, Anya grabs her wrist and drags her away from the group, up the stairs, and into the latter's room. After locking the door, she sits on the bed with a sigh while C.C. remains standing infront of the door without comprehending what had just taken place.

"So when was the next time?" she asks out of the blue.

"Huh?"

"The next time you drank blood. You have told the first, when was the second?" Anya keenly watches her with her round, lilac eyes that glows like crystal marbles in the dark.

If Zero did not tell them, then there must be a reason. Or he just simply forgot about telling them. Yes, that is _really_ something forgettable. Which way, C.C. is torn between telling and not telling for the fear of spilling confidential information.

"Well, I drank from…" Looking around the room, her eyes land on her reflection in the mirror. It might have been a slight change in her physicality but she indeed looks different from her past appearance. The velvet wavy hair takes away some of the innocence that Madame Cornelia always associated to her in the past because of her long, straight bright hair. Though her skin is still ivory white, it now possesses a healthy glow from the foods she's been eating here. Her cheeks are rosy, as well as her lips, way far different from the bluish color that they had when she first arrived here. And that's when she finds her answer. "… myself."

Anya' is perplexed. "What? Is that even possible?"

C.C. shrugs. "It seems so. I just bite my thumb and suck blood. Perhaps, it's because I haven't completely turned into a vampire that my body still has some humanity in it?"

For a few moments, the girl mulls over her answer, analyzing if such condition is possible before she slowly nods. "Yeah, maybe that's it. But," she scrunches her nose, "it's a bit disgusting, you know? Drinking your own blood. Ick," she says with an almost imperceptible shudder.

"Better than drinking someone else's," C.C. counters. Oh, she's such a hypocrite.

"_Perhaps_," and there is a hint of a smile on Anya's lips. She stands and is about to leave the room when she stops infront of the door. "You know, Zero will get used to your new look. He just needs some time to come to terms with his demons, or the ghost of the past, whatever. But he'll come around. And the others were just concerned. But I have to agree with Rivalz for once, you really look good. I know a darker color will suit you, too, just like how I know that Rivalz's color is blue, even though he gives me hell because he worries that he will look like a punk," she rolls her eyes but good-naturedly, "Anyway, if you feel like changing your hairstyle, you can. But change because you want to. Do it for yourself, not because others told you so. Have a good sleep, C.C." With that she exits the room.

C.C. _d__oes__n't _sleep. Her eyes are closed but she is very much aware of her surroundings just like how she was for two hundred years. And there is a strange churning in her stomach that is keeping her awake. When she can't bear it anymore, C.C. leaves her room and goes downstairs. Perhaps, she's just starving, after all, she wasn't able to finish her 3rd pizza slice earlier. Pizza! She hopes there are still leftovers. She finds the rectangular box they called "fridge" and opens it. As she stares at its contents, she gradually realizes that she's not hungry for food. Oh, this is bad. Bad, bad, bad.

She jumps when two light taps on her shoulder interrupt her musings. Quickly, she turns her head only to be greeted by a poke on her cheek.

"For a vampire, you surely lack the talent," he says while shaking his head.

C.C. steps aside as Zero gets a pack of milk from the fridge. He leans against the counter next to her, opens the pack, then drinks straight from it. She watches his neck tilt backwards, stretching, rising and falling as he savors his drink.

She is unaware of what she's doing until he places his hand over hers and stops her from caressing his neck. She looks up and finds him intently staring at her. "It's like seeing a ghost – frightening and haunting all at once."

"But I'm not a ghost."

He shakes his head and a bitter laugh escapes from his lips. "No, you're not and that's what makes it harder. Ghosts are just spirits, a mist or smoke. Intangible, unreal. But you, you are solid, and real, and it's like seeing her all over again." He sighs as he releases her hand. "It's like seeing her die all over again."

They are silent for a while. Him finishing his milk, C.C. looking out the kitchen window. The night is peaceful and quiet. The kind of night when a mother's lullaby is an angel's hymn.

"Who _was_ Nunnally?"

This time, when he finally answers, an air of adoration envelops his voice. "My younger sister."

And somehow, his grief becomes her grief, too. It envelopes them in a blanket of loss and despair, keeping them warm and barely breathing. They silently grieve for their dead beloveds – for Nunnally, his younger sister, and for V.V., her twin brother.


End file.
